


Until There's Nothing But Dust

by hallowgirl



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: (again kind of), (kind of), Affectionate Insults, Angst, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Bittersweet Ending, Cannot Spit It Out, Foe Yay, In which Sadiq and Ed bond about problems over orange juice, In which nearly everyone is useless with feelings, M/M, Marital Problems, Opposites Attract, Rival Romance, Two of them are Brownites, of course they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6749509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallowgirl/pseuds/hallowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Who do you carry the torch for, my young man</em><br/>Do you believe in anything?<br/>Do you carry it around just to burn things down?
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>""I hate him" Ed says, and Sadiq can tell he wishes he believed it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until There's Nothing But Dust

**Author's Note:**

> So, this came about through discussing and lamenting the lack of fics there are for the great ship Zadiq out there and also the fact that some of their remarks throughout this campaign have been so ridiculously shippy that it is impossible not to write fic about them. So I wrote it as kind of a gift for my fellow Zadiq-shipping friend *waves to Whatnot* and also because it was a tragedy that there were no fics out there for this pairing. Also, there's background Camerband, because of course there is.  
> The title and quote in the summary are from the song "Archers" by Brand New which is such a ridiculously suitable song for politicians of any kind.

_Burning out my sins until there's nothing but dust_

_holding me with care into your cigarette_

_Because the God I believed in never worked on a campaign trail.- Brand New_

 

*

 

"I hate him" Ed says and Sadiq can tell he wishes he believed it.

He just takes another gulp of orange juice and he doesn't contradict Ed because it would be easier if they both could believe it.

They're slumped side by side on the couch and Sadiq doesn't look at Ed when he says "No, you don't."

Ed breathes in and then slumps forward a little, hands knotting in his hair.

"You didn't have to come" Sadiq tells him, when what he means is _You didn't have to leave._

Ed's shoulders had been rising and falling at the door and he'd said _I can't be there_ , his voice cracking a little. And Sadiq had let him in because he couldn't feel worse and by the looks of it, neither could Ed.

He hadn't felt worse over what Cameron would say because Cameron was always going to say it-he'd been waiting for Cameron to say it. Ed hadn't been, which is typically Ed.

Sadiq had been waiting for Cameron to say it, the way he should have been for Zac.

(He hadn't been for Zac, the same way he hadn't been ready for Zac in the first place, but that was him, not Ed.)

Ed leans forward, hair braiding between his fingers. "I can't be with-" is all he says, and Sadiq's hand circles his back absent-mindedly, because he knows that _can't_ isn't the same as _won't._

There's never been anything between him and Ed. It might have been easier if there was, Sadiq thinks sometimes, because they're so similar-but then people had said that about Justine and Sadiq knows how that's worked out for Ed, no matter how many times he remembers to half-heartedly shove on his wedding ring.

So maybe it would have been the same story anyway.

But instead, they're sitting on a couch with a glass of orange juice each pressed between their hands and Ed is staring with his eyes horribly empty which makes Sadiq want to throw something, and he's not sure who at, Zac or Cameron or both.

It would be much easier if it was Goldsmith, not Zac.

( _You're so small_ Zac had said once, and from anyone else it would have been bizarre or barbed, but in Zac's light voice, it had just been an observation, almost a hint of laugh. _You come up to my chest_ and he'd grabbed Sadiq's sleeve, pulling his hand up so that his hand almost brushed Zac's chin and Sadiq can't quite believe that _that,_ the heat of Zac's chin, soft under his knuckles, was before.)

"He doesn't mean it." The words are much easier than they should be. He doesn't know when they became easier.

Ed's head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "You can't be serious-"

"He doesn't-"Sadiq likes to think that this isn't naivetie. That he isn't stupid, wasn't stupid all along. "He doesn't mean it. You know he doesn't, it's Crosby-"

The glass clinking onto the table, turning round, hand fastening on Ed's arm. "You know he doesn't" because this isn't just about Zac.

(It had been lighter at first, for him and Zac, he knows. He hadn't even thought about it much, or he hadn't realised he did at least, until Zac had tilted his face, brought his mouth down to Sadiq's in a quick, light kiss that Sadiq had blinked at, too startled to pull away)

(He'd been startled after, startled for the next few times, but he'd always ended up kissing Zac back, somehow and neither of them had ever been expecting it to happen)

But it's different for Cameron and Ed, and Sadiq knows that. (He suspects a lot probably know that. Maybe not Ed.)

"He doesn't" he tells Ed, because he knows Cameron doesn't. Cameron is many things but he's not a racist. Not quite. The strange part is, he knows it might be easier for Ed if he was.

Ed's staring at him, eyes peeking through the gaps in his fingers and then he blurts out "That just makes it _worse."_

Which is what Sadiq's been trying not to think.

He doesn't remember when he first knew what Zac was doing. He'd felt it in the whispers, the way everyone would on a campaign, in the way Zac's eyes slid away from his.

They'd still kissed. It hadn't been quick and shy anymore. Sadiq wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Sadiq has never liked not being sure.

If Zac won, he knew it would end. If Zac won, Zac would be the one who came back.

 

*

 

Ed stares into his orange juice and his fingers wrap tighter around the glass, and Cameron's words throb in his head. _For God's sake, don't pretend you didn't think this would happen-_

His own hands curled into fists, voice harsh and hurting. _I didn't think this would fucking happen, I didn't think you-_

He hadn't thought it would happen and he should. He should have.

_What you said was sick-_

Cameron laughing, the sound cracking a little. _It's what everyone's fucking thinking, Ed-_

_Well, it's wrong!_

The words had been trembling. Cameron's eyes had flickered down and then he'd been moving, his hand touching Ed's arm. _Ed-for God's sake-_

Stepping back before Cameron could hug him. _It's fucking racism._

Cameron had stopped dead. Then, _It's not._

Cameron's face, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowing a little. Closing down, ready to push away anything Ed said.

That had been the worst bit. It would have been better if Cameron had believed it. Or had shouted back at him.

But he didn't. Instead, he just didn't-he just _pushed-_

He didn't _care._

 

_*_

 

 Sadiq puts a hand on Ed's shoulder and Ed sinks down even more, takes another gulp of orange juice. Sadiq finds himself thinking that Cameron and Zac would be drinking wine, if this was them, but then it wouldn't be them.

(Zac always laughs, even now when Sadiq's going to beat him, he still laughs and the strangest part is that's the closest to Zac he's seen in all this.)

(Or at least, the Zac who'd given him a grin and said _Look how small you were_ when they'd come across a photo Sadiq kept in his office of when he was a child, grinning and bright-eyed. _And still are,_ with an elbow in Sadiq's ribs. _I could put you in my pocket.)_

Zac's never ruffled, even now, no matter how much Sadiq hammers him on the issues. No matter how hard his mouth pressed bruises into Zac's neck.

(Like nothing can _reach-)_

The only time it had been was when his head had snapped up, eyes narrowed, his mouth barking out the words. _I have never mentioned your religion, Sadiq-_

Zac's eyes had been bright, the words shaking a little. And it had taken Sadiq a moment to reply.

When Zac didn't care, it was easy to shoot back straight away. To crumble holes in the phrases and polish and pandering.

This time, it took a moment.

It's then that Ed suddenly scrambles upright, almost spilling the juice as he shoves the glass back onto the table, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't go-" he says, and then shakes his head.

Sadiq waits for a moment, something dull and heavy settling in his chest at the look on Ed's face. "Did you tell him you weren't?"

Ed's shoulders rise and fall sharply and then "I didn't tell him anything."

Sadiq had expected that.

If he and Zac had been something light, easier than they should have been, Ed and Cameron are-

Sadiq looks at the way Ed's shaking a little, his arms wrapped around himself.

Sadiq keeps his eyes on his juice and says quietly, without making Ed turn, "You should."

 

*

 

Ed had slammed the door when he walked out. He'd felt vaguely it was something he should do, something he should want to do. Like a full stop-an essential last note of an argument that should say that was it, this was it.

The note rang false. Ed had stood outside and taken in a deep, shuddering breath and then turned round.

He'd stopped and walked away but he'd still turned round.

(To shout something else at Davi-Cameron, he tells himself.)

(He used to be very good at telling himself.)

When Sadiq says, so quietly, "You should" Ed stands very still for a moment, chest lifting and falling, then spins round to face him.

"No I _shouldn't"_ he says, his voice breaking, and the look on Sadiq's face undoes him a little, because it's-

It's so-

"It's not him" Sadiq says quietly, as though it's just a passing comment. "It's the campaign."

_"No it isn't."_ Ed's hand is caught in his hair, a breath shuddering in his chest. "It-it's not and Zac-" He shakes his head, and his mouth twists with the words. "He's not a fucking _racist."_

A moment of silence drags between them and then "I know" Sadiq says. "That's what I mean."

Ed stares at him. "It's a _campaign"_ he says, almost spitting the word out. "That doesn't make this-that makes this-" Nausea twists his stomach unexpectedly, so his voice rises, high and wavering. "That's even _worse."_

Sadiq shakes his head and then "It's not Zac." He breathes out something like a laugh. "You know it's not Zac."

Zac, laughter bubbling in his throat. Tossing a grin over his shoulder at Sadiq. Winking. Nothing quite denting him, touching him.

Zac, barely shaking his hand as the cameras flashed. His eyes fixed on a reporter and the words catching a little in Sadiq's ear, snagging where they should have drifted away.

"Not really-" and he could feel Zac not watching him. Not being reached, eyes fixed on the reporter. "Like I said, I hardly know him."

Sadiq had stopped, just for a second, and Zac had looked, for less than a second. They hadn't even really watched each other before they were moving again.

"This isn't Zac" he tells Ed and Ed makes a furious sound in his throat and turns away, one hand knotting in his hair.

Sadiq leans forward, lowers his voice. "It's not him eith-"

"It's _what he did."_ The words are wrenched out of Ed's mouth. They're quivering a little and Ed turns away a little too fast, and Sadiq can see him blinking.

He waits a moment and then "I know." He can hear his own voice, a little wary with what Cameron should be saying. "But you know he's not-"

 

*

 

Ed doesn't look at Sadiq. He can feel his shoulders rising and falling. He wraps his arms tightly around his chest. He tries to blink away the burning.

It is what Cameron did.

(Though they weren't him and David then, they weren't anything, anything near-)

(And that must be worse for Sadiq-)

But Cameron still did it.

(Ed knew it hurt then, but he didn't think about why.)

(And if it happened now-)

And it's the way Dav-Cameron's brow had creased, his head had tilted to the side, and he'd said, a laugh almost breaking through _Did you really expect us not to use it?_

Ed's hands had curled into fists around nothing, the words shaking between his ribs.

Cameron, confusion creeping across his mouth, up to his eyes, head tilting even further. _You'd have done exactly the same._

That was when Ed had shouted, the words crumbling out of his mouth, shocked and breaking. Because-

Because Dav-Cameron thought-

That was worse than if Cameron-Cameron and Za-Goldsmith-worse than if they really-

They-

"-don't _care_ -" he blurts out and when Sadiq looks up, startled, he realises he's shouted it. "They don't _care-_ or it's like they-"

He can't understand because how can they not, how can they look at this and not see-

"And they're not like that." His scalp flares. His fingers are digging into it, where they've sunk into his hair. He lets go slowly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "That's the-they're not like that-"

Because there hadn't been a him and Cameron last time, and so he could forget it because Cameron was Cameron and there was an election to win.

And now Cameron is David and it's not either of them fighting this but it might as well be because-

Because David presses kisses into his hair and half-drags him to bed when it's four in the morning and he hasn't closed his eyes. David is the person who drops a packet of Jaffa Cakes down in front of him and tries valiantly to look interested when Ed insists on explaining the logistics of a Red Sox game.

David cares about things and Cameron-

He _does_ care, but-but he doesn't-

"He can choose" he says suddenly, and he turns round to face Sadiq. "It's like they choose whether or not they ca-and I don't know _how."_

He doesn't and he doesn't know how people just vote for that, for them and-

He doesn't know how they can't care. How they can just say things and not mean them, like

_Speaking a song without singing it_ , he told David once, when he still sometimes called him Cameron and Cameron had goaded him into drinking one too many glasses of wine.

Cameron had laughed. _That's how you see it._

_Yes, it-_

David had just watched him, head on one side with a smile, not a grin, and Ed had realised too late it wasn't a question.

"I can't choose" he says and then "And it's racism."

Sadiq's voice is quiet. "You know they don't mean-"

"It doesn't matter that they don't mean." Ed looks down to see his knuckles white on the window sill. His head brushes the curtains. "It's that they say it."

There's a long silence and then Sadiq says "What are you trying to say?"

Ed swallows hard.

"I-"

He knows what he wants to say.

He doesn't say it.

 

*

 

Sadiq watches Ed squeeze his eyes shut and then open them again. He doesn't look at Sadiq.

Sadiq knows what he wants to say and before he can say it, he says "It's not worth it."

Ed's fists clench and unclench.

"You can't-this will be over soon." Sadiq's moving, taking a step towards Ed. "You can't-let this get in the way."

Ed's head jerks up, but he doesn't look round. "What do you mean?"

Sadiq opens his mouth, then closes it again.

_This isn't you._

It was a few moments, with him and Zac alone backstage. A few moments. It should have been more. Even for light. Even for-

_This isn't who you-this is Crosby, isn't it?_

Zac had looked away for a moment and then, too quickly, _You shared platforms with those people._

_You know that's not what this is about._

_What else would it be about?_

_Fine-it's about that, but you know-_

His throat tightening. _You know what it's implying._

Zac's eyes on his, harder now. _It's not implying anything._

The words had lingered there. Sadiq had swallowed hard.

_Right. But this-_ A step closer without realising. _This isn't you._

Zac staring at him and his mouth opening, words trapped for a moment.

_How do you-_

And then he'd stopped, shaken his head a little.

Sadiq had been a few steps closer, then, his hand catching Zac's sleeve. _Zac._

Zac had flinched.

It had only been a second but Sadiq's grip had loosened, and Zac had pulled himself free.

They'd stopped kissing a while before. He can't remember how or when.

"It's the campaign" Sadiq says, looking straight at Ed now, and he tries to believe it.

A silence drags out again and then "I can't just stay with him." Ed's eyes still on his hands.

"I can't." Ed's knuckles are white. He doesn't look at Sadiq.

Sadiq takes a step closer, something aching in his throat. "But you want to."

Ed doesn't move.

"You love him."

Ed's shoulders rise and fall once, with a long shuddering breath.

"Ed." Sadiq's hand hovers, then falls away from Ed's shoulder. "Don't."

Ed takes in a deep breath, then another. "I-"

"You can't." Sadiq's hand touches his arm. "You can't just-" His voice trails off. "You love him" he says again, quietly.

"I can't" is all Ed says and Sadiq closes his eyes. "It doesn't matter that you _can't."_

It doesn't matter because Sadiq had told himself he can't, and it hadn't made any difference.

Sadiq knows it doesn't for Ed, the same way Saadiya had known for him.

Ed shakes his head once. "I can't just-"

Sadiq's hands round themselves on Ed's shoulders, pulls himself closer so he hugs him. He hugs him hard without Ed turning once and then says "You can't-you love him."

Ed takes in a breath. "But he's-"

"I know."

"He's-"

"I know."

Ed turns round then, eyes an inch from Sadiq's. "What about you?"

Sadiq laughs, quietly. "What about me?"

Ed just looks at him and Sadiq says, with a smile he hoists from somewhere, "I'll win."

He'll win. He'll win and he'll spare a few words for Zac's campaign and then talk about moving on.

He'll win and Zac-

Zac would have-

What Zac would have done and what Zac will do, though, is different.

Ed looks at him and then says "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

Ed's silence is answer enough.

Sadiq opens his mouth and then says "I love Saadiya."

Ed looks at him. "David loved Samantha" he says, voice cracking. "And before-I loved-"

Sadiq looks away.

Ed draws in a sharp breath, and then gives his head a tiny shake. He touches Sadiq's arm.

"But he doesn't _care."_ The words spill out almost violently. Ed's watching him, chest suddenly heaving a little, eyes wide and overbright.

Sadiq doesn't look at him and he speaks slowly. "I think he does."

(Zac's hand on his chest, grinning as he felt Sadiq's heartbeat. "You're gorgeous" with a grin, and a wink, and then "I'm keeping you" with a ruffle to Sadiq's hair.)

("Not about _ownership."_ Sadiq's protest half-hearted, like his shove into Zac's shoulder, and not like Zac's grin as he pressed a kiss to Sadiq's forehead.)

"He does."

Zac's eyes , catching his for a second, when he was about to say something-

"I think that's the w-"

He catches himself.

Ed watches him. Sadiq doesn't finish the sentence.

"He loves you" is what he says instead. Ed stands there, hands clenching and unclenching.

Sadiq touches his arm. "Please don't" he says quietly and when Ed closes his eyes, Sadiq's hand tightens a bit.

 

*

 

"It doesn't matter that you can't" Sadiq says again and Ed hears himself draw in a breath that sounds like a sob.

"It should" he hears himself say.

Sadiq just looks at him. "But it doesn't" is all he says. His hand squeezes Ed's shoulder once.

It should matter.

(A lot of things are _should,_ these days.)

 

*

 

When Ed walks into Cameron's office, Cameron's waiting for him.

They watch each other silently for a moment.

"I was rather under the impression you'd left" Cameron says slowly, carefully.

Ed's about to say _So was I_ , when he realises it's not true.

Instead, he moves past Cameron and sinks down onto the couch beside his desk.

David never usually works this late.

Cam-David stands still for a moment and though he's not looking Ed can feel him watching him.

Ed doesn't open his eyes until he hears David sit back at his desk. His eyes are still resting on Ed and out of the corner of his eye, Ed notices that David's knuckles are white around the polished wood.

Ed's fists uncurl so his hands are flat. "We" he says, without looking anywhere near David. "Are not OK."

David doesn't say anything. Ed can almost feel his shoulders tense.

Ed waits and then says "How long will you be?"

David swallows, Ed can tell without looking. "A little while."

Ed nods and then sinks back into the couch.

David takes in a breath and then says a little too quickly "If you're going to leave me, I'd rather you just told me-"

Ed sits up and turns to look at him. David falls silent.

His eyes meet Ed's almost defiantly. He's sitting up straight, legs apart, filling up the chair. His fingers tap nervously back and forth. One finger pushes at his nail.

He's terrified.

Ed looks at him and feels like he's stepped closer, even though he hasn't moved.

"I think" he says slowly, not looking away from David. "I might stay."

The words hover there.

David's eyes widen the tiniest bit, his shoulders sink an inch. "All right " he says, after a moment, as if Ed's said nothing more then that he's planning to add his name to a document. "I'll be finished here soon."

Ed nods. He watches as David turns back to the desk, and only then does he see David's shoulders sink a little again, hear him exhale, a little more shakily than usual.

He watches him and his eyes flutter closed, wanting to be flickering against David's neck as he sleeps.

"We're still not OK" he says quietly, and he can tell without looking that David nods.

Ed sits there on the couch with David working at his desk for the next fifteen minutes and then goes upstairs with him, and David kisses him in the doorway, a little rushed and desperate and says "Ed-I'm, ah-" into his neck.

Ed holds onto him. David doesn't say it.

It should matter.

(It does matter.)

It should matter more.

Ed waits for a moment to see if it does.

He waits. The moment stretches out. And he doesn't let go.

 

*

 

Sadiq waits until the darkness creeps across the floor before he gets up and walks upstairs to the bedroom. He stands in front of the mirror for a moment, and thinks.

(Zac laughing at something that wasn't so funny, but Zac found it hilarious.)

(Zac's hand on his arm, eyebrows arching into _doesn't matter.)_

Sadiq looks into the mirror and sees Zac flinch.

Ed's words, harsh and angrier in his ears. _He doesn't even mean it._

Zac's mouth opening around a word, his eyes roaming away before Sadiq could catch hold of them.

("You're the candidate.

"And you're the candidate."

"Well."

"May the best man win."

"Exactly.)

(A handshake, a little tighter, a little harder.)

Sadiq takes in a breath, as if he might say something, and then stops.

( _Giving platform and oxygen to extremists.)_

_(Locked away the real Zac Goldsmith.)_

_(This person I don't recognise.)_

Sadiq reaches out and switches the light on.

_"What about you?"_

_"I'll win."_

He'll win and Zac will-

He doesn't know what Zac will do.

_"Do you?"_

Sadiq closes his eyes for a moment.

(Zac Goldsmith elbows him in the ribs. "You hate us secretly.")

(Sadiq Khan elbows him back. "You're meant to be dropping the hypocrisy label.")

Zac is somewhere, saying something, that Sadiq will tear into pieces.

Zac is somewhere, saying something, that he needs to say somehow. To burn Sadiq into Khan and Zac into Goldsmith and them into a campaign in the dust.

If Zac won, for him-for him, there'd be a victory. It'd be Sadiq again, and a victory.

Sadiq Khan closes his eyes for a moment, clears his head, and then looks in the mirror. He watches for a moment, then turns away and doesn't think about the _can't_ that he told Ed didn't matter.

Or he thinks about it for a moment, then lets go of it, quickly. The way Zac would have.

Because now, there's Goldsmith and a campaign.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you liked it. :)


End file.
